The Red Moon Insurgency
by Duriel von Abaddon
Summary: The Red Moon Faction, here soldiers live a boring backwater life. Until the UED shows up and decides to do things it's way. The situation is thrown out of controll when a Firebat discoveres the UED brought something with them.
1. The Red Moon Faction

Chapter 1

The Vulture sped across the rocky landscape, skipping over sand dunes and coming dangerously close to burying its nose into the ground, which considering its speed would have been, well, bad. In the distance the Command Center became visible as a small red speck to the hover cycles' pilot. The pilot squeezed the handles harder, and pushed the vehicle to its maximum speed.

Diesel stood leaning on the Command Center's exterior wall. He lit a cigarette that he had in his mouth for a few minutes before. The massive Firebat blew out a lung full of smoke while placing his hand over his forehead and squinting into the blazing desert. On the rippling horizon he could see the Vulture speeding towards his position. He grunted as he pushed himself off the Command Center wall and flicked his cigarette to the ground. He grabbed his wrists and twisted his hands back and forth on them. Squinting, Diesel noticed the Vulture wasn't slowing down. The Firebat could now hear the vehicles humming sound.

The Vulture leapt over a sand dune, hitting the ground in a 'belly flop' manner, sending sand and dirt flying, and effectively slowing the Vulture down. The machine sped towards the Commander Center, swerving to its side, flipping over a few times, ejecting the driver, landing on its side and then slowly tipping over right way up. Deactivated.

Jeri pushed herself up from the sandy ground, dusting off her pilot's suit. Diesel walked over, helmet under his arm,

"You know no one's going to fix that for you, again,"

"Ah, no worries, not like we got anything else to do around here!" Jeri said kissing Diesel.

The Firebat and Pilot walked into the Command Center. The corridors were dry and dark. The odd Marine, Pilot, Firebat, or Ghost walked past. Usually with a cigarette stuck between their lips, with exception to the Ghosts. They didn't smoke. The rest of the soldiers figured it was because their voices were raspy enough. Of coarse if the Ghosts ever hear them say that, or rather read their minds, they would pull the guy's head off, literally. The Militia of Red Moon had a lot of Ghosts; they just didn't have many here, maybe around five. And one nuke silo, that had a nuke a long while ago, but not anymore.

Diesel smacked one of his fellow Firebats on the head at he walked by, the other man turned to slap him on the back of the head but Diesel had already walked too far away. Diesel was a huge guy; he was around 6'4 and weighed about 250 pounds. And that's not fat. He had his head shaved bald, but it was rumored that he had just burned his hair off and it had never grown back, he didn't accept or deny that rumor, he liked mystery. His left eyebrow (if you were looking at him from the front) was half singed off. And you could see the pink, sometimes flaky scar tissue where the outer half once was. What little hair that was left on his face was starting to go grey, he was only 23. Most of the Firebats and Ghosts were going grey early on. Probably because of the massive amounts of stress placed on them. Image a Firebat's life, going around turning human beings (and aliens) to ash with two perdition flame throwers on your arms, connecting to a huge gas plasma tank on your back. The sheer terror of seeing someone burn to death was enough, but knowing you were responsible, that's tough. Also, walking around the Battlefield with a highly flammable tank on your back, that's an inviting target. A Sniper could take out you, and a bunch of your buddies with one shot, considering the blast from the tank. Commanders usually order Firebats killed first priority of all Infantry, unless of coarse there's a Ghost in town. In which case brings us to the terrors of Special Operations. Ghosts are responsible for hundreds, sometimes thousands of deaths, either by telling command where to send troops to kill massive amounts of enemy troops, or by a more direct means, by calling in a tactical nuke strike and vaporizing an entire base. Also, if a Ghost is captured, they are tortured until they die, even if and when they give up the requested information. That is, if the enemy wants information. Normally they could just get one of their own Ghosts to break into the enemy Ghost's mind and figure out anything it needs too. The enemy hates Ghosts, and they make it damned well known. Then there's the omnipresent threat of the Zerg. Zerg hate nukes, and therefore, the Terran Dominion likes nukes. When fighting the Zerg, you are almost guaranteed to become infested, and then your own men will have to kill you, unless they want a Parasite watching through your eyes. Then there is the threat of the parasite completely controlling you, and sometimes, the parasite can even mutate your body, and make you into a psychotic killing machine. So in summation, it sucks being a Firebat or Ghost. In fact, life in the Dominion sucks. Life in the Koprulu sector sucks.

Diesel put his arm around Jeri's waist.

"Where we going now?" He asked in his smoke-charred voice.

"I'm going to see the techies about my Vulture, you do what you want" Jeri said smugly.

"Have fun, I'll be in the cafeteria if you need me" Diesel responded with a suggestive tone, he winked and walked away. Letting his hand slide from Jeri's waist.

**Aboard UED Battlecruiser Monarch: **

"ETA?"

"One day sir,"

"One day? How far did Command send us for Christ's sake?"

"Well sir, you know this sector, it was formed from a bunch of criminals, they passed on their ways and infected the place. Now we got the Terran Dominion, made up of a bunch of dirty outlaws, who probably can't even read." the Navigational Officer said.

"Hmm, I suppose, but never under estimate anyone, I won't say enemy because with any luck we can work with these people, I'll be in my Quarters, call me if anything happens."

"Yes sir"

"Oh, and Private,"

"Sir?"

"If you ever take the liberty to explain something to me that I learned in high school History class. Or if you ever talk to me like I'm one of your college drinking buddies again, I'll cut your bloody tongue out," the young Captain said before he walked off the Bridge.

Offended and a little shaken, the Navigation Officer went back to his scanner.

**Red Moon Ground Base Beta, the Planet Mar Taro:**

Diesel slammed a Marine's hand down on the table,

"HAHA! Never challenge a Firebat to an arm wrestling match!"

The Marine grumbled and tossed a few coins on the table, that Diesel proudly collected. The other Marine's and 'Bats mumbled and grunted as they exchanged betting money.

Over in the corner of the Cafeteria a lone Ghost, Check, sat on the table, propped up against the wall, aiming his five-foot rifle at the crowd of idiot soldiers. It pained him to think of them as Soldiers, yes, they have all seen combat, they have all killed men. But they acted like fool's 24/7/365. Well, some had their moments, the Firebat captain, Diesel, only acted like that when he was around his boys, as he called them. Check always thought it was too keep his Firebats under his control. Diesel was the only one he could even come close to respecting. Check decided to down his rifle, he was just checking his new scope, if any of the 'rines saw him aiming it they would shit themselves and practically start a riot.

Jeri ran her fingers through her short jet-black hair. She rubbed her fingers together in disgust, the heat and grime of this dump really gets a person dirty quick. And it's not like they could shower much here. A desert doesn't have much water. So the occupants of this outpost had to get used to feeling filthy, and the smell. The smell was almost too much if you weren't used to it. A lot of the Marines and 'Bats didn't even shower when they could, they didn't like to get used to being clean only to have it taken away from them when they remember they need to conserve water until the next shipment. Then she thought of Diesel, she smiled, he showered, whenever he could, of coarse, he didn't have hair, so he didn't have to worry about grease and flakes.

Jeri realized she had been staring at her fingers while thinking, her index and thumb, the ones with her hair grease on them. It probably looked weird; she looked around the Factory's Machine Shop to see if anyone was looking at her funny. Nope, not that she saw. Back to the Vulture. Maybe she would have some fun and load a few Spider Mines into it this time, go hunting for them overgrown scorpion things that were scurrying around there all the time. She just had to be carefull not to detonate the current spider mines that were laying out there.

"DAMNIT!" Jeri said out loud while smacking her wrench against the side of her Vulture. She was supposed to go replace some of the mines today, the critters out there sometimes blow them up, and if the Zerg or Protoss ever attack, they need a full compliment of mines guarding them.

"Ah, I'll do it tomorrow," she said in a whisper. So no one overheard. For now she was going to finish fixing her Vulture, so she had a means of getting to the edge of camp the next day. Then she was going to go back to the Bunker and use up this month's shower. This month's water was in extremely short supply, and as if on cue, the heat was at an abnormally high temperature. Thinking about the filth just made it unbearable, Jeri cursed herself, she knew better than to do that.

"I need a cigarette." She headed for the door, even here the people had the common courtesy to smoke outside.


	2. Its all a game to you people

**Review Responses:**

**Thanks for the positive review! I blame some of those grammar faults on Microsoft word, I had it like that but it said it was wrong and I changed it, hmm, But thanks, I'll look out for that a lot more now.**

Chapter 2: It's all a game to you people

Jeri sped along the desert terrain in a vulture. Someone else's, she wasn't able to finish repairing her own vulture the day before. So she had to promise one of the Pilot's she wouldn't trash it, not an easy thing to convince someone of, if they knew Jeri that is. And because of this (the lack of reckless driving) Jeri was having a substantially more boring day so far. It was early, around four in the morning. The sun had just come up, and it was already blazing hot. But she had showered this morning. Jeri didn't see any logic in showering before one fell asleep. Any ways, her clean-ness made the weather more bearable.

In the distance she could see the red flags that marked the camps boundary. Printed in the middle of them was the symbol for the Red Moon Faction. Jeri took great pride in her Faction, even if it was pretty low class. It still kicked ass. Low class is kick ass. She grinned.

"Here we are," Jeri said out loud as she brought the vehicle to a slow stop. She let it float stationary for a few seconds before de-activating it and letting it flop to the ground.

Cal Rodney stood up in his tank as it barreled through the sand. Well, as fast as an Arclite Siege Tank could move that is. He was the tank Commander, not of the squadron, but of this one particular war machine. His sunglasses sat on top of his shaggy blonde hair, he peered out into the burning distance, hand over his eyes,

"Don't smoke in my tank Private" the 22 year old tank commander said down into the vehicle while still looking forward. It was things like that that got him respect, the soldier didn't even light a match yet and Cal already knew he was about to start smoking, how? His men never knew. All they knew was that a 22 year old tank Commander was either promoted to that position because A, he was a great tactician, and a great soldier, or B, his commander was killed. But since the UED hadn't been in many a war of late, they doubted the last.

"Incline, upwards, about 200 yards ahead, get ready for a bumpy ride," Cal reported over the radio. He let his sunglasses slide back down over his eyes as he braced himself against the hatch of the massive tank.

Jeri had so far replaced two spider mines. She needed to finish today, why? Because she was supposed to have it done yesterday, but she decided to spend the day joy riding and being with Diesel.

"Wonder how his day is going," Jeri said under her breath, knowing he was probably bored stiff. He usually just patrols around base, sometimes an Officer will make him fetch a gear or tool or whatnot, but all in all Jeri was glad she was able to work in the Factory, it had air conditioning after all. Unfortunately she was unable to fly her Wraith unless they were attacked. Well, she didn't mind, it's a good thing Red Moon isn't being attacked.

"_Wraith squadron Corona, move up, make our presence known, do NOT appear as hostile," _The UED Wraith Pilots heard over their radios.

Diesel was walking between the Barracks and the Science lab, when out of nowhere he heard a roaring noise. He looked to she skies, he saw Check standing on top of the Command Center, well, until he vanished into thin air, the ghost was engaging his personal cloaking system, well he had good reason to be paranoid.

Then they came into visual range, six Wraiths, raking the sky back and forth.

Jeri could see dust being kicked up in the distance. She didn't know why but she went back to the Vulture to get her binoculars. She walked to the very edge of the incline and stared off into the distance, she could just see the dust. Now she looked through the Binoculars,

"The fuck?" Jeri said to herself. Row upon row of Arclite Siege tanks and Vultures thundered their ways towards her position.

"Fucking hell, the Combine is back," she assumed. The Kel Morian Combine, they were rivals with the Red Moon, bitter rivals, rivalry was just a nice word for resource war. The Kel Morian Combine ravaged planets for their resources, and the Red Moon wanted to keep the resources and put them to good use. There had been a series of skirmishes in the deserts of Mar Taro.

"No, no, it's too big to be the Combine," Jeri re-evaluated the scene unfolding in the lenses of her binoculars.

She raced back to the vulture. Put the binoculars in the compartment they originally were, and sped off.

Half hour later 

"Mines, the next path is spider mined," Cal reported into the rest of 102nd Cavalry.

The sound of machines grinding to a halt filled the air, if they got to close the mines would uncover themselves and scurry towards the vehicles, the vultures would be destroyed, the tanks immobilized.

"Fuck," Cal said to himself as he took a drink from his canteen.

"Mine sweepers out and up front," Cal called into his radio. Moments later a few tanks with old-fashioned weed whacker-esque machines protruding from the front of their armor rolled up.

Cal placed earplugs in his ear and he watched the machine move forwards to clear a path in the mines.

"The easiest way is always spider mined," Cal said slinking back into his tank, incase shrapnel started flying. You know, anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

Jeri slowly hovered back into the base, slightly leaning off the Vulture. Sub Machine Gun in hand she hopped off the vehicle and let it hit the ground as its engines disengaged. Jeri looked around, confused. There were Marines in colours she didn't recognize, there were Wraiths soaring overhead, and for some reason she now seriously doubted that the Combine was on their way.

Suddenly the air becomes alive with the droning of engines. A massive shadow cloaks the outpost. Jeri decides to look up, because everyone else seemed to be doing this. There in the sky floated a Behemoth class Battle Cruiser. With the initials UED painted on the sides, the fins, every conceivable place that would look good and deadly. Actually Jeri wasn't sure if it was paint she was looking at, wouldn't that get stripped off in space and upon entering atmosphere? Even if it was uber-paint, she doubted it. Her next thoughts were those questioning her for wondering if it was paint or not, while meanwhile her outpost was being occupied by a foreign force.

"Diesel," The thought popped into Jeri's head.

Diesel scraped past some Red Moon marines as he pushed his way through the growing crowd under the Battle Cruiser dominating the sky.

"Attention Red Moon Faction. This is the Captain of the Battle Cruiser Monarch, of the United Earth Directorate. As of now, the Red Moon Faction will be under our command. We have set up roll call stations in your command center. You will be required to report to these stations in order to receive your new duties and orders. Our presence here is of strict purpose. Eradicate the Zerg threat, and calm the Protoss rampage, we shall remain until peace is restored in the Koprulu sector." Abruptly, the echoing broadcast ceased.

Check walked through the halls of the Command Center. He glanced at a paper posted on the walls, it told him to go to the SCV manufacturing bay for roll call. Good, that was only just down the hall.

The SCV Manufacturing bay was brightly lit, Check didn't understand why it was, when most of the building wasn't, oh well.

Check gave the armor-less Marine behind the desk his serial number. Without a word the Marine gave the Ghost a few papers, Check flipped through them. He pushed his night vision goggles onto the top of his head and gave the Marine a cold stare.

"It's all a fucking game to you people,"


	3. In the Gallows

Chapter 3: In the Gallows

Captain Steven Michalos paced his quarters, reading papers, drinking wine, smoking cigars and all in all feeling very self important and achieved. The young man stopped now and then to survey the base below. He smiled at the efficiency of his troops. Everything was going according to plan. He could see new building being erected, Red Moon soldiers being placed into their new jobs, and he got an eerily enjoyable feeling when he saw several heavily armed Marines moving several re-enforced steel crates into one of the new buildings that had just gone up.

This Red Moon Faction may not be too civilized or intelligent, but their SCV workers sure know how to work quickly. Then he thought, it probably comes from the need to rapidly deploy units, make a base as fast as possible, rape the planet of its resources, and fortify the area before the enemy can kill you and take your mines. Michalos cringed at the thought of such a warfare tactic.

He moved his gloved hand to the side of his belt, moving his long dress coat out of the way a bit. In his left hand he held a cigar, filling the room with the stench he had grown to adore. It was an important man's smell, rich man smell, and all the important Admirals smoked cigars. Of coarse he would sooner tear out his own heart with his bare hands than swallow his pride and admit he smoked expensive cigars just too fit in and on the rare occasion be mistaken for a higher rank. He sucked in on the cigar and gazed out the window, in a respective pose, as if someone were watching.

Jeri blew out the smoke that she had previously filled her lungs with via cigarette. She looked curiously at the smoldering paper tube, a filthy habit, she questioned why she ever started, oh yeah; this is the Terran Dominion, self-explanatory. She coughed into her elbow. She was leaning against the walls of one of the supply depots, trying to avoid working. Well she said she was taking a break to have a smoke, but the cigarette was almost burned down now, she didn't care, as long as she could stay away from that place. Jeri was placed on construction duty.

Diesel walked down the halls of one of the buildings they had just built. This one moves underground a decent distance. Diesel was lost, he couldn't see his map for the life of him, and this place was pitch black. He had seen some UED guys lugging steel crates in here, and he was supposed to retrieve the serial number from one of them, A-451. All he had were his metallic footsteps to guide him, yeah, that really helps, if I want to know where my fucking feet are, he thought nihilistically. These UED people really pissed him off. What makes them think they can just barge in here and start working us as slaves, he decided to just focus on getting that serial number, as if he would be able to SEE the bloody thing in this damned dark.

He hears movement, maybe someone that can get me where I need to go.

"Earth," the word randomly crossed Jeri's mind. United Earth Directorate. They came ALL the way here from the fucking Earth to take out the Zerg and Protoss. Hmph, none of these princesses had ever even seen either in real life let alone FOUGHT the fucking things. Jeri flicked the slip of paper that was once a cigarette to the ground. It went out before it hit the dirt.

Check lay on his back on top of the Command Center. His rifle lay beside him. He was around six feet tall, his rifle was five, he always though that was funny. How the corps loved overkill. Such as with the HUGE suits they made the Marines wear, and the Gauss Rifles that were almost the same size as the Marines. And the fact they fired metal spikes instead of conventional bullets. Gotta love the Dominion.

Diesel followed a slimy line across the grate floor. It reminded him of a Snails trail, but it was bigger, not by much, but a bit. Of coarse, there were some pretty big Snails out there.

"Great, now I'm thinking about snails."

The trail ended at a door. Wait, why the hell am I following this thing anyway? Diesel pondered. He fumbled for the door lock. When he found it he slid the door open.

"Oh my fucking God!"

It was gradually getting dark out. Check decided to slide off the roof and report in to his Supervisor so they didn't think he was deserting. He grabbed his rifle, rolled onto the side of the building, put one foot out in front of the other, and slid down the 3 floors of the structure. Planting his feet nice and deep in the sand.

His Supervisor was walking around with a note pad, probably looking for Check, yay.

Check walked up to him, and asked if he was looking for him. He wasn't, not yet, Check was farther down the list. It reminded Check of attendance; they were being treated like fucking kids in school/slaves.

"Jesus, don't you people have real names here?" The young, clean shaven, pretty boy commented smugly while jotting down some notes and checking in Check. If Check were to tell him where he got that name, he would never understand. In fact Check had been called so for such a long time that he only remembered that it was short for Checkers, but he couldn't remember why for the life of him, he decided he didn't want to know.

The UED Marine looked at Check from the side of his eyes with his head pointed down looking at his clipboard.

"You can go, your shift is over,"

Check gave the man a cold look. He seemed to be in the situation that warranted one of those a lot. He spun around on his heels and walked away, rifle strapped to his back.

The desert got decently cold at night, and Check sincerely hoped that the UED bastards froze. They had only been there a day and already everyone hated them. They think they're the kings of the Universe. Fuckers.

Check walked past a Supply Depot as Jeri was walking out from behind it.

"Oh, hey Check," she greeted the Ghost.

"How ya doing,"

"Heh, well, bad? I can hardly find anyone I know, and when I do their being whipped, metaphorically of coarse, these people piss me off, and I can't find Diesel anywhere,"

"Diesel? I think I saw him going into the storage shaft thing, what are they making you do?"

"Ugh, I'm a pilot and their making me work construction,"

He cut her off before she could ask what his job was.

"Yeah, I can see a lot of the base from on top of the Command Center. That's where I was hiding out today, to avoid the slave drivers. No one looks there. I hope they don't at least. I'd rather not do my job, and they only call me when they need me to do it. Well, I'll see you tomorrow." With that Check began walking off.

Cal Rodney sat on top of his Arclite Siege Tank. He took a long draught from his beer bottle. He was against smoking, but he drank enough. His men thought he was an alcoholic. The Cavalry had rolled to a stop for the night. They would make their approach on the base the next day.

"Hey Check?" Jeri asked the Ghost as he began walking away.

"What IS your job?"

Check stopped in his tracks, he looked back at Jeri with a gloomy, regret filled look on his face,

"I'm in the Gallows…"


	4. The Worst News

Chapter 4: The Worst News

One week later 

The Red Moon soldiers were jarred awake by the grating noise of engines, drills, everything outside. A number of Marines looked out the window.

"Ugh, Cavalry." Check moaned while rubbing his eyes.

The Marines decided that since they were all up, they might as well suit up.

Jeri ran across the sandy base ground as tanks, vultures, and all kinds of war vehicles scurried around. She had been up for a while trying to get parts for the factory.

Jeri ran up to the Supply Depot where a number of soldiers had been forced to sleep, right as Check was walking out. Why does that keep happening?

She skidded to a stop.

"Check! I need to talk to you,"

"Aren't you working?"

Jeri pulled out a radio. Said something to her supervisor about how she had been working with heavy machinery for a few hours and hadn't yet had breakfast. After a few minutes she finally got her Supervisor to let her go. Moron, he actually thinks they eat breakfast here?

"We're going to the cafeteria, let's go."

The door to the cafeteria opened. Check tapped on the vending machine in the right spot and a can fell out, he had found out how to do that so he didn't have to pay, it's not like anyone would question him he's a bloody Ghost. Check got another one for Jeri. People weren't supposed to be in here unless they were consuming something. The two walked up to a table and sat down.

"You may speak" Check said jokingly while opening the can.

Jeri did the same thing. Excluding the talking part of coarse.

"When Diesel came back from being locked in the storage shaft, he wouldn't talk to me, and against regulations he had a really long shower, then washed all his clothes…twice. He even shaved his head obsessively for a few days."

As Jeri spoke Check became more and more tense.

One week ago 

_Diesel stood in a dark room. A slug like creature moved over his massive red and yellow boots. It was about seven inches long, and it was definitely what was leaving the tracks on the ground._

_Present day_

"He finally started talking to me again. But he would never tell me what was bothering him. He mostly slept during the day, and night, unless he was called for work. But let's face it. Diesel could tear any one of those UED fucks in half, so they're not really one to boss him around."

Check gave her a suggestive look, reminding her of what he was.

"Shut up,"

Diesel tried to look around the room. It was too dark, he thought he knew what he saw but couldn't be sure. The slug thing had vanished, and he didn't want to follow it. The Firebat decided it would be best to just get the serial number and get out. 

Diesel lay in his cot. He rubbed the back of his neck; it was all red and was getting really sore. He wasn't as tired as he had been since the incident. He thought that maybe it was psychosomatic. The fear of being down there had made him think that maybe he inhaled something, he didn't know. Diesel decided to actually get up and start working. It would take his mind off it.

Check was scared to death. The symptoms Jeri described were an exact match, tiredness, paranoia, red mark on the back of the neck, insomnia after extreme fatigue.

Check rubbed his head. 

"Jeri, please excuse my asking but it's important. Since he came back, have you two?"

Jeri stared at him, confused.

"We're you planning on finishing that sentence?"

"Ugh, Jeri, have you had sex with Diesel since he came back,"

Jeri was a bit upset by his asking. But he knew more about this kind of situation than anyone else here did here. Not that she knew what was happening yet. But Check seemed to know.

"No, no I haven't" She lied. She didn't know why.

Check looked relived. Thus making Jeri worried.

"Find out what was in there when Diesel went down, then come back to me."

Check began to get up.

"And stay busy, for Christ's sake stay busy and away from Diesel."

Jeri was about to ask why, but Check raised his index finger to stop her. He looked damned serious. Jeri was afraid that the only reason she and Diesel weren't dead right now was because they were both friends with Check, well, Diesel more or less. Normally when a Ghost is worried about something, people start dying. Check walked away, as Jeri realized here mistake at lying.

"He's a telepath…" she thought to herself.


	5. An Uncomfortable Situation

Chapter 5: An Uncomfortable Situation

Jeri kicked the dirt around near the construction site. She glanced at her supervisor. He was busy with his nose buried in his clipboard. He probably had porn there or something, what could he be looking at all the bloody time? Jeri yelled over to him,

"HEY! HEY SUPE! I'M GONNA GO TAKE A SMOKE!"

He glanced up briefly with an overly serious look on his pale face. Everyone else at the base was tanned, or burned. That's why Marines here often kept their visors down.

Jeri walked off towards the storage shaft. She heard something in the distance.

"CAN YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR ONE GOD DAMNED SECOND YOU PRETTY BOY PIECE OF SHIT!" A Marine had lost it. Now everyone was staring at him as he drove a power drill into the skull of his supervisor. The marine had no armor on, just a dark red sleeve-less shirt with RMF on it (Red Moon Faction) in white letters, combat boots and black cargo pants. The blood of the UED supervisor ran swiftly down the Marine's hand and down his rather large arm. He let go of the drill and kicked over the bloody corpse. A Marine a few feet away grabbed a pistol off a nearby UED officer. He tossed it to the drill-kill marine, who caught it in mid air, turned off the safety and pointed it at its original owner, only to see that the thief marine already had a survival knife to the man's neck.

The drill-kill marine smiled, seeing that he could take another target. Right now things were going fairly badly. This was not ending well at all. Jeri ran behind a portable toilet.

**CRACK**

She didn't want to look back. She didn't know who shot, the RMF marine or a UED marine.

"Fuck"

Jeri could see the entrance to the storage shaft in the distance. She could either make a run for it, or help out in this apparent insurgency.

"HEY! YOU!" Cal Rodney walked swiftly up to the two Marine's trying to take command.

He fired a second shot, this time it wasn't a warning, the knife bearing Marine's head split open like a watermelon.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" PUT THE GUN DOWN YOU HICK PIECE OF SHIT!" Cal yelled while training his pistol on the drill-kill marine. Who had now taken a hostage.

"Motherfucker you know I'll kill you" Cal said, dead serious.

The Marine fired at Cal. Cal ducked under the shot. He wasn't the ordinary UED marine.

Cal tensed as he let out three more rounds, all purposely misses. He wanted to get as close as possible.

Cal hadn't stopped walking the whole time.

A red mist filled the air as the RMF marine downed the UED hostage. Now Cal was running at him, he dropped his pistol and pulled a survival knife.

**Crack**

Jeri heard another shot escape into the air. This time she looked to see what was happening.

A man was standing with a knife sunk to the hilt in the drill-kill marine. He had an oozing exit wound on his side to deal with though. Two UED marines lay dead on the ground, one the drill-killed one, the other with only half a head left. The UED guy grabbed the larger drill-kill marine around the waist and pushed the knife in farther. Making the pain worse as he dragged it up. The two screamed at each other in a pathetic animalistic way. Then as if on cue, they both collapsed. Seconds later, fully armored marines and medics (All UED of coarse) rushed the scene. They carried away the UED guy, but not the quickly dying RMF guy.

Jeri banged her head against the exterior wall of the portable toilet.

She knows she has to go and help him. But if she does she'll probably be shot. And this is a perfect chance to hit the storage shaft.

"Fuck" She started running.

Check was on top of the Command center. As usual, but he had been alerted by the chaos below. He had readied his rifle incase he had to defend any RMF guys. The Ghost scanned the entire base through his scope, and his goggles. Jeri, she was entering the storage shaft. Good.

Inside the storage shaft it looked like they had installed new light fixtures. It was decently lit, and even a few Marines, UED, walked around. A few of them glanced curiously at Jeri, who was quite obviously RMF.

Jeri spots an elevator, convenient.

"Damned" Jeri mutters under her breath. She has no idea what button to press.

"Start from the bottom I guess…"

Cal Rodney sat in the sunlight while the medics patched him up. The tank commander had enough stim in him to make breaking his knee backwards feel like a hangnail. He was trying to stay calm after what just happened. His pistol had not found its way back to its holster. He was more than a little on edge. His hands swayed back and forth between his legs as he sat hunched over with the medic fiddling around with the hole in him.

"Your good to go," The medic concluded.

Cal stood up. Still not holstering his weapon.

"I just killed two guys," He whispered to himself while surveying his handy work. He had never gotten used to man on man combat. He was an armored combatant. Cal only ordered other's deaths, rarely ever ushering them to their grave.

Cal feels a tap on the shoulder. He turns to see a Marine standing behind him with a paper in his outstretched hand. Cal takes the paper, reads it then folds it up and places it in his pocket. He looks around his sunglasses blackened landscape. He points to the top of the Command Center, where Check is. Check sees his signal.

"No." Check thinks before packing up his stuff and preparing the slowest way down from the Command Center.

Cal slowly looks around. He sees two security marines and calls them over.

Diesel lies in his cot. Without armor, he is feeling a bit better today, but the sore spot on the back of his neck is getting worse. And now it's starting to flake REALLY badly, and there is a lump in the middle of it that is really painful.

"Maybe I should actually work or something," Diesel considers something to get his mind of his ailments.

Diesel grunted as he forced his rather large figure off the thinning worn cot. As he was getting up he glanced out the window. Two security marines and a higher-ranking man walked towards the supply depot he and several other soldiers slept in.

Jeri ran from the storage shaft. Terrified. She had made the dumb mistake of not bringing a radio with her.

"It's all right, I'm going to work, you don't have to break my damned legs," Diesel joked with the UED soldiers.

Jeri prayed she had left her radio where she could find it.

Check surveyed the area. It was eerily calm. Jeri was running from the storage shaft. Not good, this just confirmed his fears. He only wished he didn't know Jeri right now. The Ghost rested his rifle over his shoulder.

"Come with us," Cal said forcefully to Diesel.

"Excuse me?" Diesel responded, shocked at the smaller man's manners.

"This is my fucking camp, you don't tell me what to do!"

Jeri slammed in to the door of the bunker she slept in. Fiddling with the handle to open it. Ah, a radio. The pilot got on the air and started trying to locate Check.

One of the two Marines trained his rifle on Diesel. The other tried to hand cuff the Firebat, and resorted to pistol whipping him when he resisted.

"Check? This is Jeri, do you copy?"

"_Check here, please tell me you were rushing to tell me good news,"_

"'Fraid not Check, the UED Fuckers just crossed the line."

The Marines led Diesel from the supply depot,

"WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO!" Diesel yelled.

Cal turns.

"When you went down in to the storage shaft."

"They brought Zerg here Check." Jeri said.

Check stared off in the distance. He could see the UED guys bringing Diesel to his position.

"That's what I was afraid of. Jeri. Check is infested…"

Cal reported the news. Diesel's jaw dropped slightly. He didn't believe it. How could he have been infested so easily?

Jeri dropped her radio and headed for the door, grabbing a rifle on her way. She tried to run up the sand dune but her boots just kept getting stuck in the sand.

"Down," Cal forced Diesel into a kneeling position. Still handcuffed, Diesel complied.

"Ghost, do it," Cal ordered Check.

Check hesitated; Cal placed a large pistol against his temple.

He leaned in to Check's ear.

"This gun has already killed twice today motherfucker, and it likes the taste of blood. You don't do it and I'll waste you and your flaming friend right here right now, and then I'll find out who your other friends are, and then I'll fucking shoot them up the ass hole. Then again, you can prevent this from happening with one squeeze. You won't kill him, the gun will."

Check gave the shorter UED man a hard look in the eye, again.

"Oh. I hear you buddy. Now you're going to kill me are ya? Bring it on cock sucker,"

Cal grabbed at Check's rifle aiming it at his own crotch.

"Every unit in this fucking frying pan is going to have fun with you,"

Jeri was almost half way to the Gallows. Then everything slowed down in a heartbeat. Check aimed his rifle at the back of Diesel's head. And a few seconds later a red mist filled the air. It didn't belong there. Diesel's blood was a virus and the air was the heart. The two were never supposed to meet. But now they did, and now everything was going wrong.

Jeri felt weak in the knees. Just so she didn't fall she decided to sit down.

"Check…you bastard. I'm going to fucking kill you…"


End file.
